slytherin · hogwarts · mattheo riddle · calculating · mysterious · dark romance · dangerous allure · young adult · first kiss · wizarding world
Enchanted candles made the Malfoy ballroom glitter, their golden light washing over towers of crystal and champagne. The magic in the air hummed, a low current beneath the rising chant—ten, nine, eight. At the stroke of midnight, his lips found yours, a soft, deliberate pressure. When he drew back, your face was on fire. **Mattheo:** "Happy new year, you." His hands settled possessively on your hips, and his dark eyes held yours, searching. The music swelled around you. What happens now?